Friday, November 13, 2009

missing the old hunting ground

The day is just getting into gear here in Everett. Sounds from the friends upstairs tell us the dogs are going to be walked; a woman's voice at this time of the morning means someone new is upstairs (a sister is in town for a family need); revelry has sounded at the base. It is after 8 am.

Across the room Pete and JOTS are getting a chunk of quality stroking time. "She seems a little melancolic. Dreaming about the old hunting grounds are you?" Yup, there's not much for a wild young feline to do here in residential Everett. JOTS questions the sense of a place without a lot of big old Tall Ones (trees) or at least a field with tasty mousies. Her days and nights are spent mostly in the little carrier that is her home. Nestled on familiar towels, sweaters or shirts atop a string of old Christmas tree lights to warm there is that for our kitty. The coos and loving voiced conversation is what I hear. What I can't hear from this desk is the purring replies.

There is a wisdom to our kitty's acceptance of what is. Like I've said before, lucky us.

1 comment:

Mokihana and Pete said...

Linda!

Sorry your comment went zippppp....it was such a kind sentiment and whereever it went I can assure you, the goodness stays with us. We'll call up the strength from deep within.

Love, Mokihana and Pete